A Waitress Named Beth
by buggyroo
Summary: Beth Marks, a young waitress who survived the attack on NYC, is asked to dinner by a mysterious man 3 weeks following the ordeal.
1. Chapter 1

"_Captain America saved my life" an entire country watched as a young waitress from Brooklyn tearfully gave her first hand experience. Her name was Beth Marks, 27. _

Three weeks after the day I gave that interview, things had practically returned to normal. It was late May, the heat in the city had turned the streets rank and the air thick with smog. Not to mention the street the diner was on was still pretty torn to pieces. The diner had cleaned up pretty quick, though. A couple of days of boarding up and sweeping, and it was good as new. Business was unusually slow, a lot of the streets and buildings were completely closed off, so many of our regulars hadn't bothered.

I slowly rearranged the salt and pepper shakers on the bar, daydreaming. A few patrons sat around the diner, and a few more outside. A pair of what sounded like German tourists snapped pictures of one of the boards in the window. They'd been visiting a lot lately, superhero fans from around the world, to see the place where it had all happened.

Well, they should have been here when it _had _happened; they wouldn't be too enthusiastic about it then.

Cars exploding and people screaming, running around in chaos. The sky ripped open and just like in all those dumb movies, aliens flew down from space, having it out on the innocent human population. I genuinely thought I was going to die that day, and that is not a feeling I would wish on anyone. Then out of the sky came The Avengers, with their high-tech alien blasters and big angry green monster and a couple scary looking acrobats. They crashed and flew around and kicked some ass all together which was pretty revolutionary. So far we'd only known Iron Man, and who knew ole Stark would descend from his lit up tower and help the little people out?

But low and behold some secret agency had been keeping all these superheroes secreted away and they came and saved the day, and everyone in America cheered. I'm one of them. They saved my life.

But if there is one thing that I don't like, its tourists who take pictures of destruction and then don't eat their smiley face pancakes.

The bell tinkled and I spun around, a bright smile instantly plastered to my face.

"Hi, what can I getcha?" I asked, reaching for the pot of coffee. Sure enough, the man who has walked in, very tall and donned in a leather jacket and a pair of sunglasses, said:

"A cup of coffee would be great, ma'am." He said with a sigh. Ma'am, eh? You don't hear that around New York much these days. I reached for one of the speckled mugs and poured it full, then set down the mug and a small pitcher of cream in front of him.

"Lemme know if I can get you anything else."

I turned around to refill some of the ketchup bottles. "Say," the man said suddenly. "You look familiar, have I seen you somewhere recently?"

I spun around, furrowing my brow. It didn't sound like an attempt at a pickup line, it sounded genuine, which is what got me.

"Um, I was on the news a few weeks ago. I got interviewed, but I think that's the only place anyone really knows me from."

The man nodded, smiling. He was pretty handsome. Very blonde, though, with bright blue eyes and broad shoulders. He looked oddly familiar himself.

"That's where I saw you, I remember now." He cracked a smile. Yes. Very handsome. "What was it like here, then?"

I sighed, not unpleasantly.

"It was...it was terrifying. But hey, I got out alive, thanks to 6 superheroes."

He grinned, taking a gulp of his coffee. "Just like the movies." he said.

"Are you from around here?" I asked. I picked up some glasses and wiped them down as I talked, so my hands would be occupied.

"From Brooklyn, originally."

"No kidding, me too! Where did you go to high school?"

He looked perplexed, then his eyebrows shot up. "Out of state boarding school."

"Ah." I looked down at the glass, scrubbing out a smudge.

"Listen, Beth." the man said. "You seem like a nice...girl," he struggled for the words. I bit my lip, containing a smile. Someone as good looking as him certainly has experience with women, right? And he was flirting with me? It had to be some sort of elaborate trick. He took a deep breath, and looked up at me through his lashes.

"When was the last time somebody took you to an expensive dinner?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update guys! I have a really good idea for chapter 3 and it's coming right up after this one! Enjoy:) Review if you'd like.**

* * *

I said yes.

Although, I don't really know why.

I think normally the answer for any sane girl was because he was so good looking, but that's seemed so conceited to me.

But I said yes. He seemed so sincere and kind, just by the patient way he spoke.

Maybe I was in over my head.

I was thinking this exact thing as I rifled through what little clothes I had to find something acceptable to wear on an expensive dinner date. His name and number sat on my dresser on a napkin. _Steve _was written in impeccable script, like he took handwriting class or something. My loopy cursive looked ridiculous compared to his.

I realized as I rifled I had to have only relied on jeans and t-shirts for the past year. It seemed the closest thing I had to a dress was my uniform and I imagined the look on Steve's face if I showed up wearing _that_.

Finally, _finally, _after a half hour of crazed searching, I found a wrinkled dark blue cotton thing in a box at the back of my closet. It was covered with dust. I shook it out, misted some water on it, and attempted to blow dry out the wrinkles.

Miracle of miracles it managed to somewhat work. The dress went to my knees and was sort of plain but it was going to have to work. I put on a chunky beaded yellow necklace that must have cost a quarter at a flea market, and a pair of yellow flats I had in the back of my closet. After trying to curl my hair and getting exceedingly frustrated, I pulled it into a pony tail and hoped it would do.

My roommate, Franc, a sarcastic, smelly, and flamboyant gay Frenchman, was cooking dinner when I exited my room.

"Ohh someone has got a hot date, yes?"

"Very hot," I said "you certainly would like him."

He set down the spatula and clapped his hands.

"I don't think I have ever seen you go out like this."

I shrugged and couldn't help blushing a little. "Do you know where my bag is?"

He shot me a don't-change-the-subject look, but nodded in the direction of the tiny living room and said "Behind the couch, I think."

I found it instantly then parked myself on a bar stool, chewing on my thumbnail.

"When is he going to be here?"' Franc asked, adding olive oil to something steaming in the pan.

I glanced at the digital clock on the microwave. "8:30." I said. It was 8:28.

Two minutes later, the buzzer rang. I looked up at Franc, and he looked up at me.

"Someone is right on time." Franc waggled his eyebrows as I crossed over to the box.

"That's a good thing, right?" I whispered, then pressed the button. "Hello?"

"Hi, it's...um, Steve." the voice crackled.

"Yeah! I'll buzz you up!" I practically sang. Franc flinched.

"Calm down, bucko." he said.

I couldn't sit or stand or really do anything else but fidget for the next minute or so. Then there was a tapping at the door. Franc straightened himself and brushed off his cute little apron. I swung open the door, and he stood their, his hands behind his back, feet shoulder length apart.

"Hi!" I said after a moment.

"Hey..." he paused for an awkward moment, then his eyes lit up with realization. "You look really nice!" he said with gusto.

"Thanks, you do too!" I laughed. I meant it, he wore black slacks and shoes and a button up blue tshirt and the same leather jacket from before. I didn't feel too underdressed or overdressed. I felt just right. "Um, this is my roommate, Franc."

Franc just about skipped over and extended his hand. When Steve took it Franc did a little half curtsy and said "I am just delighted to make your acquaintance."

Steve looked amused and surprisingly not uncomfortable. "Pleasure."

Franc turned on his heel and gave me an exaggerated silent scream face before dashing away. I rolled my eyes and reached for my bag.

"All ready to go?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, ready and set."

The elevator ride was nice. Steve asked me about the apartment and the neighborhood, and I asked him where he lived (Park Avenue!) and then we were walking out of the lobby where my doorman tapped his hat at Steve and I.

"The car is just there." Steve said, nodding a few cars down the street. My mouth fell open. A beautiful black Jaguar convertible, antique, probably from the mid 60's, sat in a little spot in between two sedans.

"It's yours?" I whispered. He nodded and headed to the passenger side door, unlocking it quickly and opening it up in one smooth movement, and then motioned me in.

"Wow, thanks." I said, sliding into the cool leather seat. The interior was beautiful, slightly futuristic looking, however, with glowing blue dash. Steve got in just two seconds later.

"It's beautiful."

"A friend restored it for me, has all sorts of cool tricks up its sleeve, I don't even know half the stuff it does."

"I'll be sure not to touch anything then, I don't want rockets to shoot out the back or anything."

"Knowing him it wouldn't surprise me." he muttered as he pulled the car away from the curb.

"So, Mr. Steve Rogers, where are we headed?"

"A little place uptown, I think you'll like it."

**A/N: I assure you the next chapter will be better! Thanks for reading:)**


	3. Chapter 3

The restaurant was beautiful, small but bright, with wide windows and it's own valet. (!) We were seated and given menus, which was perplexing, because I'd never seen a menu without prices on it before. I look concernedly at the menu, all the dishes sounding amazing and probably costing more than I make in a day, plus tips.

I glanced up at Steve, who was peering over his menu at me, his mouth turned up in a half smile, his eyes crinkled.

"What?" I asked, trying not to smile myself, but ultimately failing.

"Nothing, nothing at all." he shook his head and looked back down.

We ordered and then Steve, with a grim look, said "Can I ask you a serious question?"

I straightened in my chair and nodded.

"I was wondering if you could tell me what it was like...down there, two weeks ago."

I sighed and slumped a little. I'd been asked the question by numerous reporters and dozens of tourists, but this was the first regular person to ask.

"You want the entire story?" I said.

"As much as you want to tell me."

I filled my cheeks with air and pushed it out in a whoosh through my lips, organizing my thoughts, trying to recall everything.

"Right, okay." I began, crossing my legs and looking at the table cloth, then up at Steve. "So it was about 3PM, and it was surprisingly busy at the diner. Maybe a quarter after 3 or so there was a huge electronic zwooping noise from Stark towers, which is actually considerably normal, but the tourists all look up and get over excited about it. I mean, Tony is always up there in his big Iron Man suit blowing stuff up. But then, ten minutes after that or so, he came crashing out of one of the windows. I saw it too, he didn't have his suit on until the very last minute it closed around him. I thought maybe he'd fallen, but then the laser shot into the sky and space opened up and all hell broke loose."

Steve sat with his elbow on the table, his chin resting in his palm, his blue eyes never leaving my face.

"The alien things swept down, blowing up everything in their path, and it was chaos. I was serving outside when they came down our block, and cars started flying towards everyone, so we ran inside and watched from the window. I mean, that was all we really could do, was watch and wait. At one point something exploded so close to us all our windows just shattered, and all the people standing in front of them were suddenly hurt or bleeding. Another woman and I tried to patch who we could up with what we had in the diner, but it wasn't enough, people needed stitches and there were people who were running in off the street and it was total chaos. Then the plane thing crash landed and instead of running away like everyone else was, these three people were running towards everything.

"Stuff calmed down for the most part for a few minutes, until the giant flying slug aliens came down. The slugs weren't really the problem for us down on ground level, but the aliens piggybacking on them...they went directly to the streets and came into the building. I mean, four of them came into our diner and started screaming at us...and did you see the pictures of the things? They weren't nice looking. They screamed at us in this terrible horrible voice, nothing like I've ever heard before." Steve nodded at this

"And then, they corralled us all up and herded us out and walked us down the street and into a big bank. It was terrible, you know? Like a bad dream, absolutely terrifying, but I didn't know how to react to it. I mean, my entire body went on autopilot, my head was fogged up with adrenaline. God, there was one little boy, just 3 or 4, and he'd come into the diner, I remember because his mom had asked for a booster seat. Somehow in all the chaos, they'd been separated, and I'd carried the little boy with me as we walked because he was just crying and screaming and shaking, the poor thing. When we got in the bank though, it was clear that the aliens didn't want us to make any noise at all, so it took a lot of coaxing to quiet him down, and I really didn't want the aliens to hurt him or anything, so he sat on the floor and held onto my leg really tight. I mean...tight. I still have bruises."

Steve's eyebrows raised, but he still didn't interrupt.

"Then, right as the things raised their guns, about to fire into the crowd, there was a crash and in came Captain America. A real superhero, right there. I've never seen anything like it, I mean, he took out those things and he doesn't even carry a weapon, just that incredible shield. He yelled at us to clear out, and the entire crowd moved at once. Then something exploded and he flew out of the window.

"When we got out into the street, the mom of the little boy finally found us, and took him...she was just hysterical. Cops ushered us towards the subway station, but I caught a glimpse of him...just the back of his head though. After that, we were in the subway, and all we could hear were explosions and crashes. 15 minutes later everything was over. Ambulances and news vans were everywhere when I got back on the street, but I just went back to the diner and started to clean up. I didn't know what else to do.

"So there it is, that's everything." I said. Not once in the entire story had Steve looked away, lowered his eyes from my face.

"That's the first time I've heard an eyewitness story that wasn't on the news. You tell stories well."

"Thanks. It's probably the most interesting thing that has ever happened to me."

"Well, that may be true, but you do have a lot of life left to live. Interesting things happen every day."

I grinned.

"Now your turn, you tell me a story." I said, just as the food was placed in front of us.


End file.
